


(Denial) The Song of My Insanity

by CelestialHeavens1



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Hallucinations, Spoilers, dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialHeavens1/pseuds/CelestialHeavens1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is alone and he is dying. He always wondered if he would die 4x17. Spoilers for Because the Night (4x17) and Homecoming (3x09).</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Denial) The Song of My Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the poem Song of Myself by Walt Whitman and the major theme of the story.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

His dreams were plagued. Were they dreams? He was near positive he was still awake. The agony he was in made it impossible to sleep.

He couldn't sleep, no, he could sleep, just not peacefully, not after what he had done. Not after what had happened.

She'd never forgive him.

_She doesn't care for you._

Why should he worry about her? She had made it clear how she felt.

_People who do terrible things are just terrible people._

He let her leave, upset, angry, and broken.

_Good. She should leave,_  some awful voices in his head speak to him,  _You don't deserve her. You are beneath her._

He got his punishment for letting her go.

Sometimes he wonders if she sees how much darkness that she has in her? She was willing to let twelve people die to save her friend who had been working with the man trying to kill them all.

He groaned in pain.

He wanted to die.

He wanted to live.

He wanted to stab that blonde bitch through her heart.

No, he wanted to stab Silas through the heart and kiss the blonde senseless.

_No._

The evil dead immortal witch from hell may have stabbed him in the back, but she tore out his heart, ripped it up, set it on fire, dropped it on the ground… then stomped on it for good measure.

He hated her.

He loved her.

He wanted to die.

He was immortal, fearless. He shouldn't be in this kind of pain.

He is alone and he is dying. He always wondered if he would die alone.

_So you've never felt the attraction that comes when someone who's capable of doing terrible things for some reason cares only about you?_

_I did once, when I thought he was worth it, but it turns out some people can't be fixed._

Why was he so stupid?

He bared his heart to her, wore it on his sleeve, and still she…

Mikael was right.

_Yes, yes,_ the voices in his head all whisper _, Mikael is always right._

Mikael was right that he had no one.

_Nobody cares about you anymore, boy!_

Why should they? He was terrible. And terrible people did terrible things. No, that wasn't right… Was it terrible things are done by terrible people? No… still wrong.

The sun hit him in the eyes as he prayed that if he was going to die, for death to come quickly. And then there was a woman standing there before him, beautiful, brunette, and cruel.

"I'm hallucinating," he groaned.

"Perhaps," she crouched down before him, long dark hair falling down to her waist, "But you haven't changed. Still denying to feel. You're a coward, Niklaus. You will live forever with no one at your side. You don't deserve her."

"But-"

"Shh," the woman tilted her head, looking at him with brown eyes, "You are truly pathetic, Niklaus. She knows that and that is why she will never love you. You are worthless."

"No-"

"The world would be better off if you died. You should have been dead a thousand years ago. She would be alive and happy if it weren't for you. And now, the world is righting it's wrongs. Correcting it's mistakes, so to speak."

"No-" he gasped.

"Don't try to delay the inevitable."

I'm not going to die. I'm not. I'm not, he chanted over in his head mentally. He couldn't die here with only  _her_  mocking him with her memory, a thousand years after her death.

_You are, you are,_  those voices whispered.

"You're going to die here alone and no one cares enough to come and get you, to come save you. And why should they? You've done such terrible things-"

No! No! Stop now! he wants to cry out, but finds he can not.

"And everybody knows,  _people who do terrible things are just terrible people._ "


End file.
